


amber

by miirage



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Post-Recall, all i write is mcgen im so sorry, but they kiss so thats neat, genji gets sad when jesse is sad, jesse gets sad when he drinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 11:56:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14769143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miirage/pseuds/miirage
Summary: Deadlock didn’t have a long life expectancy, he knew, figured there wasn’t a reason to think anything more of Overwatch. More of himself.But time makes you soft.





	amber

Jesse’s a sad drunk. Or maybe somber is the word, far-away look in his eyes coupled with the usual pug-mouthed frown. Turns into a pout when his fingers are pried delicately away from the bottle one by one.

When he was younger, before the recall and before he was running and maybe even before Blackwatch, he was a little harder around the edges. Used whiskey like it was mouthwash and he always needed to feel clean; rolled his jaw at the notion that he should cut back, squared his shoulders ‘cause he knew they were right. And maybe he’d spit fire, sometimes. Cruel words to kind people. Deadlock didn’t have a long life expectancy, he knew, figured there wasn’t a reason to think anything more of Overwatch. More of himself.

But time makes you soft.

McCree’s out an arm, now, and more people have come into his life that mean something to him than he ever thought possible. They’ve left, too. Voluntarily or not. He’s still a fan of liquid courage but he takes it on the rocks instead of neat, replaces it with coffee in the mornings. And his loose lips wax poetic more often than they sling insults.

It starts the same every time, when Genji cuts him off. He puts his hat down somewhere he’ll remember to pick it up, left in just his t-shirt and jeans -- all the other gear’s abandoned before he even takes a drink. And he moves syrup-slow, smiles twice as sweet, leaning into personal space like a question. Gets answered in kind; Genji twists to open up to him, arm moving out subtly to catch a fall he knows will never happen. Call him paranoid.

“Look at you,” Jesse begins, low rumble in his throat, his chest. There’s a smirk for his trouble. “Kind of you to watch out for me, baby.”  
  
“If I don’t, then who will?”  
  
“No one as pretty, that’s for sure.”

“Convenient that you can be so bold, now. You know that the only bed I’m taking you to is your own, right?” Genji questions as he gets his hands on Jesse’s chest, holding still for a moment before slipping them around to press at his back. He’s soft in ways Genji will never be again, but it only serves as a comfort, these days. They’re halfway-hugging and McCree frowns again, knocking his nose against Genji’s temple.

“I don’t know what to say to you.”

“Then don’t say anything.”

“What if you forget?”  
  
“Forget what?”  
  
“That I love you.” And he’s pressed up close, now, trying to get as much full-body contact as he can. His arms circle Genji’s middle nice and neat, and Genji’s own have slid up and around to hang off of Jesse’s neck. Twist fingers in his hair, just a tease. They’re quiet for a second. “I love you so much.”

“I know.” It’s a whisper, because it’s true and it isn’t the first time he’s heard it but he’s still learning to accept it. To keep those words for himself because they’re not for anyone else. Genji cups one palm around the back of Jesse’s head to hold him more tenderly. “I won’t forget.”

Just like that, the air of solemness is back, and they’re standing in a silent room clinging on to each other because it feels like something they need to do. Maybe it wouldn’t be like this if Genji had stopped him earlier. Maybe they would have joked longer and louder and watched a movie or tumbled into bed like they sometimes do, but maybe that’s not the best way they could be. Genji shuts his eyes. Tucks his face into Jesse’s shoulder and breathes deep, smells that cloying cigar smoke and generic detergent and sweat and he’s calm. It feels good, now. Touching.

“I need you to understand,” McCree speaks up again, abrupt. Still soft. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be.”

“I can’t…” There’s a hitch there, makes Genji press lips to warm skin where he can find it. “Lost too many people, you know.”

And he feels selfish, now, for thinking of himself.

He reaches back to shut off a couple of the lounge room lights, letting the room get dim as he leads Jesse to the couch. Seats him there and follows him down, holding his face in both hands. The act makes Jesse’s eyes cross slowly ‘til Genji rests his mouth against a rapidly heating forehead.

“Where do you think I would go if not with you, cowboy?” Weight shifts minutely and Genji is jostled, hears rustling at their sides that means McCree’s balling his fists up. Physical acts to keep emotions inside. Genji breathes his air for another moment before tilting his chin up. His eyes are shiny, wet. “Don’t be scared.”

“You say this shit all the time, can’t help worrying you don’t mean it every now and then.” Jesse sounds petulant, not unlike a child, but Genji won’t reduce him to that. It’s fair and they both know it. “You left once, didn’t ya?” They’re not looking at each other anymore.

“Everyone left. And I needed--”

“I know what you needed.”

“I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t--”

“I know!” His voice is lowered just as quick as he’d raised it, right hand coming up to scrub at his mouth and try to cover his eyes. “I know.”

“If you want to move on, then do it. You dwell so often on the past for nothing but your own misery. Stop it.” Genji draws Jesse’s arm away. Stares him in the face. “Do you still think of me in the same way that you once did?”

“Well…”  
  
“Don’t be crude.”

A beat. And then, “Not exactly.”

“Then what makes you think that I do? We’ve spent so long to get here, Jesse, is that not enough for you?”

“You don’t get it.” Genji scoffs. Jesse sneers. “People like me, like us. We don’t get to have this. Happy endings. The other shoe’s gonna drop and then it’s just…” He salutes with his prosthetic, lets his head loll against the back of the sofa. Dramatic.

“I met you over a decade ago. And the first time I let you touch me was within the last year. I think… that we have worked hard enough. And we deserve to have something nice.” His hands go back to Jesse’s hair. He pushes it all back, displaying McCree’s handsome face in the lowlight and humming appreciatively. They stare at each other for a moment. Genji kisses him, chaste. “I cannot tell you what will happen tomorrow. No one can. But I can promise that I will be here for every _today_  that I possibly can.”

Jesse blinks up at him slowly, eyelids heavy as he takes a moment for himself. The conversation seemed to sober him up plenty, no longer three sheets to the wind, but he still huffs through his nose like he’s at a loss for words.

“You were trying to seduce me earlier, I didn’t know you were doubting so much.”

“Got you in my lap, didn’t I.” It’s fairly flat in tone, but it’s a quip nonetheless, so Genji figures he hasn’t stepped too far over the line. He lets a whisper of a smile crack his lips instead. 

Their faces get closer again, close enough to mumble to each other like they’ve got worldly secrets to share. Jesse doesn’t try to cross his eyes to follow the movements anymore, just closes them, finally lets himself hold onto Genji’s hips gingerly. “What are you thinking about now?”

“That I gotta stop puttin’ my foot in my mouth around you.”

“Try again.”

The click and set of his jaw betrays him, the _that I’ve been in this position before_ died on his tongue the moment he thought of it. Genji laughs through his nose. “Thinking I wanna go to sleep.” Jesse holds on tighter as soon as the words are out. “Thinking maybe it can wait. Just a little while.”

“Just a little while,” Genji agrees.

They talk more, just like that, quiet and serious as death and wrapped up in each other. Exhaustion tickles at the edges of Jesse’s vision eventually and he gets grumpier. Genji kisses him again. And again. Holds him there and takes his breath away until the threat of him falling asleep is real, and then they go. Stay close. Nearly tripping over their feet, because McCree refuses to let go, but eventually they make it to bed. They share because they can. Genji takes to resting far slower but it feels easy nonetheless, and he huffs a breath into -- his boyfriend’s? -- hair as he shuts his eyes.

Jesse forgot his hat.


End file.
